


On My Own

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel has Anxiety, Exploration, Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wing Kink, casturbation, masturbation as a coping mechanism, we've all been there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: Castiel's working a solo case and he's too worked up to sleep. He takes a little time for self-care.





	

Cas rolled over, finding the second half of the hotel mattress precisely as unfulfilling as the first. 

He needed to sleep. He could barely concentrate and even if he could  _ find _ the witch, he was too worn out to take her on. 

Behind his closed eyelids, his mind raced, going in circles. 

She’d been here. She’d stayed in this hotel. He’d need to interview the staff, which he couldn’t do until they showed up for their shifts. He’d need to wait until morning. 

In the meantime, she was running, getting further and further away with each hour he wasted lying here. He should go after her. He just needed to know which direction to go. He needed to speak to someone who’d seen her. Which meant waiting until morning. 

He needed to sleep anyway, why couldn’t he make this  _ stop, _ make the planning and the worries and the analysis calm down for just a few  _ hours? _

Because while he was sitting here waiting, she might be choosing another victim, that’s why. That’s why he couldn’t stop planning. Couldn’t stop going over the spell he’d long since memorized, couldn’t stop cataloguing everything he knew about this witch, about her victims, about her plans, about-

He rolled over again, one fist slamming uselessly into the pillow. 

“Stop it!” he groaned, taking fistfuls of his vessel’s hair and pulling. 

The pain grounded him, a little bit. 

He sighed. 

Over the years, he’d worked out an uneasy truce with his vessel. He kept it healed and functional and clean, and it… well, it didn’t interfere with his objectives. 

He stood in the dark, making his way to the motel bathroom. He didn’t turn the light on; it would be too bright and the accompanying fan was entirely too loud. 

Instead, he felt along the countertop, past the crumpled hand towel and tiny prepackaged soap, until his fingers closed around the bottle sitting by the mirror. 

It was lotion, a little less than a handful, and he returned to the bed with it, pulling off his shirt as he went. 

The air was warm on his skin, and he paused a moment to really feel it. The vessel seemed to prefer warmth to the feeling of cold, and though it was possible to ignore the sensations either way, it was also nice to simply let himself feel. 

Setting the lotion on the bedside table, Castiel kicked out of his sleep pants, standing naked in the dark room. 

He wasn’t usually naked; he was aware that it was a faux pas among the humans, but he still enjoyed the feeling of being unencumbered and free. 

The blanket was soft against his back when he lay down. He breathed in, trying to relax, trying to force his racing mind to forget the witch, forget the interviews, for just a little while. 

He pressed his palms to his face, focusing on the feeling of pressure against his skin. He tried to differentiate, to feel the coarse brush of his fingertips separately from the smooth skin of his cheeks. He took a finger into his mouth, feeling the soft heat of his tongue. 

His other hand trailed down over his throat and chest while he sucked. The touch was light, it almost tickled, and he could feel the hair on his body standing on edge. He continued stroking his belly, long lines from the bottom of his ribs to the jut of his hips. It didn’t tickle, exactly, but it felt nice. 

He didn’t often explore the feelings of his vessels this way. Even after so many years, Jimmy’s body was still somewhat of a mystery to him. Most of the time he was almost fully clothed, to the point where even the patterns of body hair were still unfamiliar. 

He removed the finger from his mouth, dropping his hand to card through the curly hair at the fork of his legs. The skin there was sensitive, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine as he played with the curly strands. His penis began to swell, and with it came the biological desire to  _ touch. _ He ignored it for now, instead opting to run his palms up and down the insides of his thighs. He drew his legs up, spreading them wide, extending his reach. 

Short nails scraped along the inside of his knee and he shivered, feeling his cock stiffen further. That impulse to  _ touch _ was stronger now, and he let his nails scratch down the inside of his thigh, toward the junction of his legs. 

His balls were hot and heavy in his hand when he cupped them, rolling them between his fingers and pulling at the elastic skin encasing them. The sensation was intense, bordering on painful, and a small moan escaped his lips. He pulled again, letting the feeling overwhelm him. His grace prickled along the edge of the sensation, seeking to absorb and eliminate, but Cas reined it back. He  _ wanted _ to feel this. 

He reached for the lotion, continuing to massage his balls with the other hand. 

The cream was startlingly cold where it touched his overheated skin, and Cas squirmed, focused on the dab of cold sliding down the hard length of his shaft. 

His grace prickled harder, fighting against the intensity of the vessel’s sensations, but Cas continued to ignore it. His fingers closed around his cock, stroking and twisting as he brought himself to full hardness. 

The vessel was content with this, happy with the stimulation he provided, but inside, his grace still writhed and fought. 

Cas groaned, rolling onto his front and rising up onto his knees. His forehead rested in the crook of his elbow, his legs spread on the soft covers. His balls now hung low, his knuckles brushing them when he stroked back. 

He released his grace and within a few seconds, the antsy feeling dissipated. Instead, a deep heat spread across his shoulders. It travelled down his arms and spine, the heat radiating and undulating like tongues of fire. Cas groaned again, tipping his hips down, fucking slowly into his own fist. 

The heat penetrated him deeper, until he could feel it in his bones, increasing until it became overwhelming. Cas’s teeth dug into his knuckle, trying to contain his cries of pleasure, his hips pistoning faster into his hand as his wings burst free from his back. 

Free and corporeal, he could feel each individual feather, the way the air moved through them, the way the tips brushed against the wallpaper on either side of the bed. He could feel the tertials stroking along his back, just above his ass. He twitched them experimentally and  _ oh- _

His hips froze and his hand took over, stroking quick and hard, his thumb rubbing over the slit, and he was so close, so close-

His wings folded, tertials and secondaries stroking over his ass and thighs and he came with a groan, his seed marking the cover in white. His hips bucked of their own accord and he let them. His vessel knew what it wanted. 

When it was over he was left panting, the muscles of his thighs and abdomen aching from an exertion he hadn’t realized he was making. 

Exhausted, he collapsed onto his side, drawing his knees up close and letting his wings cover him. Beneath them, it was dark and warm, the feathers soft and comforting rather than overwhelming. They moved slightly of their own accord, stroking him to sleep as his mind dissolved into blankness and static. 

Within a few minutes, he’d fallen asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I just wanted Cas to feel warm and secure. For a little while. He deserves it. 
> 
> Especially since there's like a 30% chance he's getting raped in my next fic. 
> 
> *shrugs.* 
> 
> Written for a kinkmeme prompt: http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/119476.html?thread=43188148#t43188148 
> 
> Look, I *actually followed the prompt* this time. Not like the clusterfuck that was my last fill.


End file.
